((25th of Heartfire/September, 4E 202))
"Who's Farkas?" At Brynjolf's not-so-innocent query, I instantly lost my footing, nearly falling off the wooden bridge. I caught myself before I could slip down, but my shock and fury remained.
"Where did this come from?" I demanded. "Where did you hear that name?" Scurrying across the bridge, I waited for Brynjolf to catch up and give me an answer.
"It's just... I've been thinking about the best time to confront you on it, and I figured now was as good a time as any." He was then quiet, and my anger started bubbling over.
"Well?" I snapped, curling my fingers into fists. "Spit it out!"
Bryn reached into his back pocket and pulled out a yellowed parchment, wrinkled around the edges and sickeningly familiar as I snatched it away.
Dear Russ,
Vilkas said hes going to stop helping me with the letters since I should stop w̶r̶i̶t̶e̶i̶n̶g̶ writing to you. I hope you can still read them. I wish you could come back because its not the same here without you. Im not good with my words but I know that I really miss you and I really want you to be here again. I didnt really say anything when you were here. I think I was maybe scared to? Maybe if you came back I could g̶e̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶c̶o̶r̶a̶g̶e̶ ̶t̶o̶ be brave and say it to your face instead of in a letter. It's ̶d̶e̶f̶fe̶c̶u̶l̶t̶ d̶i̶f̶f̶e̶c̶u̶l̶t̶ hard to do it on my own. Even if you never come back I hope your happy.
ps All of us here miss you. Even Skjor. Please take care of yourself.
ps ps I just remembered that Jarl Balgruuf didnt end up punishing Jorrvaskr. He said you being gone was enough. He doesnt trust werewolves.
-Farkas
Brynjolf scratched the back of his head and averted his eyes, embarrassed. "I found that on the ground a few weeks ago. You must have dropped it."
I lifted my lip in a snarl and tried not to scream as I recalled my papers flying from my satchel. "And you read it?! What made you think that was remotely okay?!"
"I was curious."
"That's not an excuse!" I snapped, covering my face with my hands. "Oh, my gods... Bryn, why would you..." My words were muffled, but the emotions accompanying them were clear. "Who else, hmm?" I shouted through clenched teeth. "Did you go around the Flagon, showing off the letter and laughing with the rest of the Guild?!" My heart dropped into my stomach. I didn't want to bring up the part revealing I was a lycan. If it became public knowledge, I'd be hunted down and killed.
"Of course not, lass." He tried to reach out for me, but I absolutely refused to be placated and shoved him away roughly. Whirling around, I hid my front against the stone walls and breathed deeply. I cracked my fingers, hiding the fact that my anger was overshadowed by shame. He'd asked who Farkas was; the next question was undoubtedly going to be about Jorrvaskr and why me being gone was a good thing, then about my being a werewolf. That wasn't something I wanted to revisit, wasn't something I'd wanted anyone else to find out. "...Are you all right, lass?" The query stopped me short.
"What?"
"I said, are you all right?" Brynjolf gently placed a hand on my shoulder, and I didn't hesitate in pushing him off again.
It was easy enough to hold the tears back, and I did so here. I wasn't the kind of Nord who faced her past and sobbed in response. "I'm fine," I answered bitterly, trying to figure out what his deal was. "What else?"
He raised his left brow. "What do you mean, 'what else?' I was interested in who Farkas is. He seems important to you."
I scowled at Brynjolf. "Interested? More like nosy." I'd expected Brynjolf to ask about the 'me being a werewolf' issue, but I wasn't going to complain that he only seemed interested in my old friend. Of course, I was absolutely going to complain about the fact that he'd read the letter and did ask about Farkas in the first place. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I tried keeping my breathing steady. If I continued to panic, there was no doubt I'd involuntarily turn. "It's none of your damn business." I continued to glare at Brynjolf. "How about that?"
For once, the red-haired Nord was speechless as I stared him down. I eventually groaned and gave up, storming away. I half expected him to return to the Ragged Flagon, but he trotted right after me. His footfalls were much quieter than mine despite the fact that both our boots had been designed with stealth in mind.
"Where are we going, lass?" Brynjolf questioned, following me up the stairs and into the free air of Riften.
"The apothecary," I grumbled, walking along the creaking boards of the lower deck.
"What, are you planning on cutting me up?"
"I just might if you don't shut your trap." The alchemy shop was right opposite the lower docks, the sign swinging in the soft wind. Elgrim's Elixirs was written faintly on the worn wood. I motioned for Brynjolf to head on in. "Just keep him occupied," I said, "while I take a look in the back."
"Not sure that's the best plan." I waited for him to elaborate, slightly put out by his implication that my plan wasn't a good one. "Elgrim knows me. In fact, everyone in this town does. There's a chance he won't even talk to me."
"...You screwed him over."
"I screwed him over, aye." Brynjolf had a slight smile while I again rubbed my temples. "So, what exactly did you need to get?"
"A health potion, one of those big ones. They're normally expensive, but I was planning on taking a five-finger discount."
Brynjolf's left eyebrow swooped up in curiosity. "Why do you need a health potion? For Goldenglow?"
I shook my head. "No. The Argonian near the docks asked for one. She didn't tell me why, but I'm not sure I care. She offered her boat in exchange, and I need to sneak around the island. I'm not planning on losing my extremities to frostbite by swimming."
"Wujeeta? She lives in Haelga's Bunkhouse." It was my turn to be nosy.
"Oh, is that so? And, may I ask, why do you know that?" I'd expected Brynjolf to get embarrassed, maybe even come up with some lie. Instead, he shocked me once more with a calm, almost nonchalant response.
"Use your imagination." His green eyes flashed. "How do you think, lass?" He put his weight on his left leg, unabashed by the admittance. "Though I have to say, lass, I prefer the Nords."
The memory of him mentioning Haelga when I'd taken my first job from him brought on a scowl as I held up my hands in surrender. "Okay, okay! Thank you for the mental image; I'll remember you in counseling."
Brynjolf backed up. "It's not common knowledge, but Wujeeta has a skooma addiction. I'd venture to guess she's trying to get rid of that habit."
"She's not happy with you, either. After all, you're the charlatan who sold her snake oil." At my accusation, Brynjolf gave a sarcastic gasp of dismay.
"Oh, how could you?" he sputtered, slapping the back of his hand onto his forehead. "How dare you accuse me of being anything but a virtuous shopkeep essentially living for the very principle of integrity?"
"Yeah, yeah. Come on, crybaby. Back to the job." I pointed to the door. "I don't have forever, and I'm not in the mood to deal with a pissy Guildmaster." Brynjolf shrugged while I bit the inside of my cheek to avoid snapping at him again. "Fine. I'll distract the alchemist; you look in the back for a health potion. Sound good?"
"Aye-aye, captain."
I made sure to make as much noise as plausibly possible upon entering Elgrim's Elixirs, natural but not suspicious. Picking up potions, rustling baskets of bones and plants, just pretending to take a look around. In the meantime, Brynjolf stuck to the walls, hiding well enough that if you weren't actively searching, you likely wouldn't have seen him. While I admired his skills, I wasn't going to compliment him on them when his questioning had left me sore.
"Can I help you, miss?" Another voice had me look up from the magicka poison in my hands. Setting it back down on the shelf, I meandered over to the desk where Elgrim had set himself.
"Mostly just looking around," I said smoothly, eyeing the various glass bottles around the room. "You've got quite a lot of potions around here."
Elgrim let out a huff, his long white mustache moving a bit with the breath. "Of course I do. I'm one of the few alchemists in Skyrim who knows what he's doing." He crossed his arms. "Plus, I've been teaching another junior alchemist. Her potions are decent enough to sell at a discount."
"I see, I see." I tapped my chin, pretending to think. "Would you be interested in buying an alchemical ingredient or two?"
Elgrim's brow furrowed, giving the old man even more wrinkles. "Maybe. It depends on what they are. If it's lavender or goldenrod, don't bother. I've got a surplus as it is."
"It's vampire dust. I know it has invisibility properties."
The alchemist's voice took on an interested tone. "Vampire dust? It does more than invisibility if you mix it right. Been a while since I've worked with that." His gruff demeanor returned. "But don't think that means I wouldn't know how to."
I shook my head emphatically. "I'd never suggest such a thing, sir." I withdrew the small pouches of black dust I'd gotten off the slain vampires from my pack. "How about, say, sixty gold for both?"
"What? Are you trying to bankrupt me, girl? Forty."
I pressed my tongue to the inside of my cheek. "I know that vampire dust isn't an easy reagent to acquire. Don't you think such a powerful ingredient is worth more than that?" I plopped both pouches onto the counter. "Fifty. Take it or leave it."
The elderly man appeared to think it over before groaning in irritation. "Fine," he gruffed, snatching both and tucking them under the counter. "Here." He counted out fifty septims into another cloth pouch and tossed it to me. "Anything else?" I shook my head, having seen Brynjolf sneak by out of the corner of my eye.
"That's it. I figured you'd make better use of the dust than some cook or general store."
"You're not wrong," Elgrim admitted. "There. We're done. Now, get out of my shop." I wasn't put off by his surly attitude and swiftly obeyed.
Just as I'd thought, Brynjolf was standing outside the shop, fiddling with a long-necked glass bottle. Red liquid sloshed around inside. "There you are, lass. Heard you haggling with the old man. I'll admit, I'm a tad impressed with how you handled it." I took the potion he held in his outstretched hand.
"Thanks," I muttered reluctantly, shielding my eyes from the sun as I looked up, not wanting to meet Bryn's eyes. "Doesn't look like Wujeeta is up there, does it?"
Brynjolf shook his head. "She wouldn't be. If I'm not mistaken, she'll be inside the Riften Fishery right about now."
"What, not the Bunkhouse?" I said crossly, inwardly wondering why I was so bitter that he'd almost certainly been a customer.
"I already told you, lass. She doesn't go in until later in the day." Nibbling on my lip, I managed to hold back a vicious response to Brynjolf and sighed in defeat.
"Why don't you head on back to the Flagon?" I suggested miserably, my thoughts once again on how much I'd have to complete just to get close to my goal. He continued to follow me up the wooden stairs to Riften's main level to my bewilderment. "What are you doing?"
"Didn't I say I'd help you?"
I eyed him suspiciously. "Didn't I say you should head back to the Guild?" I countered. "Besides, Wujeeta's made it abundantly clear that she doesn't like you. I don't want her spotting you anywhere near me, especially when I'm trying to give her a potion almost identical to the gunk that you decided to sell."
"It's not my job to care about what happens to the customers after I've sold my merchandise, lass." He rubbed at his dark red stubble. "The only thing I care about is the gold."
I frowned. "You know, I think we could stand to create a better reputation by getting the commonfolk on our side. You know, just go after the rich bastards around Skyrim and ignore the people desperately trying to make a living. It'd be a better use of our time, plus we'd undoubtedly make more money. Instead of sucking up to the rich and robbing those who don't have two coins to rub together, we could use the poor as our eyes and ears to help us rob the rich blind. The rich won't notice a gold necklace or two going missing. The poor won't even have one." Brynjolf didn't say a word, appearing somewhat shocked by my suggestion. "What?"
The Nord waved it off. "Nothing, nothing. It's just- that's how the Guild used to operate."
Curiosity got the better of me, and I allowed the conversation to melt into casual talk. "Mind explaining?" Brynjolf gave me the side-eye.
"No, I don't. You know why, lass?" I knew what was coming. "Because it's none of your damn business."
"I'd say that's fair, except it is my damn business," I argued. "Am I not part of the Guild?"
"Technically, you're not. You're on your official initiation job, remember?"
I sent him a vicious scowl. "You're justbeing petty, Brynjolf." Without waiting for a reply, I stormed up the stairs, intent on finding Wujeeta. "I guess I'd better finish that job up. Gotta get into the Guild, you know." Although I couldn't see him, I figured Bryn was rolling his eyes.
Eyeing the boat sloshing around in the lake, I pushed open the door to the Riften Fishery. The rusted iron hinges creaked as I did, and I figured they probably didn't have the funds to replace them with material that wouldn't deteriorate. "Hello?" I called out, taking a few steps inside. "Wujeeta?"
"In the back," the raspy voice responded. I met her in the middle and held up the potion. Her scaly tail flicked excitedly, expression instantly lighting up.
"Did you really- I can hardly believe this." The Argonian woman grabbed the potion almost violently and downed it in a few gulps. The haze over her eyes slowly faded away, along with the lethargy that weighed her limbs down. "I'd almost given up hope," she murmured, setting the empty glass bottle into a nearby woven basket. "Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me." She gestured to the window. "Go ahead and take the boat. It's yours, now."
I shook my head. "I don't need to keep it," I informed her. "Just to borrow it for a little while."
Wujeeta shrugged her shoulders. "Well, then how about this? You feel free to use that boat whenever you want."
"That works." I held out my hand for her to shake, and I noted that her firmer grip was a sign of the healing potion working its magic. "I'm glad you're feeling better."
"Much better." Wujeeta stretched out her arms, a satisfied sigh slipping through her teeth. "Again, thank you, stranger." With that, the Argonian headed off while whistling a merry tune.
"Well, don't you just have a way with the despondent and desperate?" I didn't have to look to know Brynjolf had come up behind me. A firm hand gripped my shoulder. "The stableboy, Haelga's niece, and now the Argonian." His tone was more wondering than derogatory. I paused, going through his words in my head.
"How'd you know about the others?"
"Well, lass, what makes you think I don't have eyes all over town?" Brynjolf teased. I didn't answer him, instead cursing viciously when the rope refused to be undone. The thief bent down and took the knot out of my hands. "Why don't we head back to the Guild? Give it a few hours. We can set out at midnight. The night shift will be getting tired by the time we get to Goldenglow, hmm?"
"We?"
Brynjolf's voice turned serious. "I'll tell Mercer I came along to make sure you performed well, how about that? And..." He trailed off, apparently unsure of what he wanted to say.
"And what?"
"And nothing, lass. I just want to make sure the job gets done, and no matter what Mercer says, Vex's attempt was proof enough that a single person isn't enough for that no matter how skilled they are." His tone was firm, making it clear that he wasn't willing to talk about it any further. "Let's go, lass. We should get some sleep before we have to come back."
...
"Lass? Lass, wake up." I continued to float in the waters of the Shores of Sleep, content in- "Lass!" Jolting awake, I swung at the person hovering over my bed. My fist nearly connected with my waker's jaw, but a strong hand trapped my wrist before it could. Blinking the sleep out of my bleary eyes, I realized it was Brynjolf at my bedside.
I groaned and flopped back down into the pillow. "What do you want?"
"We have a job to do, lass. Sleeping the night away isn't going to get it done." The gears in my still-sleepy brain started turning, and as soon as they connected with the realization that he was right, a surge of adrenaline shot through my body. Instantly awake, I rolled out of bed onto my feet and grabbed my sword, sheathing it and standing straight in one smooth movement. A glint of approval shone in Brynjolf's eyes. "Let's go, it's almost midnight." He tossed me a biscuit. "Eat."
I followed the Nord man to the Flagon, then out into the Ratway. By the time I'd finished my biscuit, I had a question to pose. "What's the plan?"
Brynjolf's head swiveled to face me for a second before he pulled the lever to lower the bridge. It clattered to the ground with a creaking thud. "The plan is whatever you say the plan is." He sounded amused. "This is still your mission, lass."
"My- oh." I pondered his words for a moment. "Well, if that's the case, then I should be leading, don't you think?" I could almost hear Brynjolf rolling his eyes as he stepped aside and gestured for me to exit through the Ratway's door.
"After you."
Somehow, it was darker outside the Ratway than inside it. While the occasional torch from a guard created light, there wasn't much to show. "With it being this dark out, we should be able to reach the sewer entrance without being seen," I noted.
"My thoughts exactly, lass." We set off walking along the lower pathway until the end, the fishy stench assaulting my nose. Trying not to gag, I shoved the nausea down and ascended the stairs. Brynjolf at my back, I began fiddling with the thick rope keeping Wujeeta's boat tied to the dock.
"Let me help." I stepped back, allowing his skilled hands to take the rope apart. "Go on, lass." Taking his hand to steady myself, I climbed into the boat. The swaying nearly sent my lunch hurling up from my stomach, but I somehow managed to keep it down. "Ready?" Brynjolf climbed in after me.
I coughed and let out a bit of air. "Ready."
He stared at me disbelievingly. "Really, lass? You look like you're about to vomit."
I waved him off. "I'll be fine. We need to get in through the sewers, and this is the only way to do it." I let Brynjolf push us off and take the oars, with him being the stronger of us two. The further we got from the docks, the harder it became to see Brynjolf. Isn't that a shame? my traitorous mind said gleefully, which I repressed almost instantly.
"Lass?" I caught a shine in Brynjolf's green eyes before they again were shrouded by the shadows. "I'd like to apologize." The boat swayed as he continued to row.
I scooted forward, now curious. "For what?"
"Earlier. I..."
"Got snippy?"
"Aye." He quit rowing for a moment and rubbed his hands together. "Maybe, after this job, I'll tell you about it." Brynjolf's breath condensed in the cold night air.
"Sounds like a plan. I suppose we should probably get through it, first." I took Brynjolf's ensuing silence as confirmation and watched as the lights of Goldenglow grew closer. "Take us closer to the back. Vex's map shows the sewers are around the rear of Goldenglow." The Nord wordlessly obeyed, cutting through the water with ease. The low light mixed with the icy fog surrounding the bee farm meant that while our visibility was low, that meant that the mercenaries' was as well. Their exhaustion would lead to them being careless, as well.
Brynjolf docked the boat, placing the rope under a heavy pile of rocks. "Where to now, lass? Into the sewers, I presume?" I nodded and knelt down, keeping in mind that I was being watched before pulling out my lockpicks. The cold was freezing my fingers, making my movements sharper than usual as I fiddled with the grate.
"You first," I whispered, moving aside to allow Bryn through first. "I'll follow."
Inside appeared to be a regular sewer system, though a few dead skeevers and mudcrabs laid about. Their corpses looked fresh, meaning there had to be mercenaries about. Meeting Brynjolf's eyes confirmed that he'd noticed that exact same thing. At the end was a trapdoor, a bit of light seeping through.
"Lass?" Brynjolf's voice was so low I barely registered it. "I have a question."
"Ask away." I matched his volume, and he moved a bit closer to me. I could feel the heat coming from his body in the cold air.
"What's this plan of yours?"
"I'm following Vex's path," I answered. "Find the safe, go up to the next floor and confront Aringoth, come back out through the trapdoor." He was silent, and I wondered what was going through his mind for a moment.
"Lass, Vex's plan failed."
"But it also got her further in than any of the Guild," I pointed out. "I just have to follow through." Brynjolf didn't reply, leaving me to return to the objective.
I opened up the trapdoor, suppressing a satisfied groan at the warmth that rushed over my freezing body. What I assumed to be mercenaries clanked tankards in the next room, likely on break, or possibly a different shift. From the sound, they were intoxicated. I hoped they were drunk enough to miss us in case we-
A board creaked under my feet, and all talk ceased while I berated myself for the error. I turned back to Brynjolf with wide eyes, and he silently urged me back down the trapdoor.
"What was that?" one of the mercenaries asked.
"I didn't see anyone come down here."
"Think it's another skeever? Damn rodents."
"Let's make sure. The boss told us to get rid of the vermin."
Brynjolf and I fled down the cellar, and I looked at him with an annoyed expression. "Would've been nice for Vex to warn me about those old boards!" I whisper-snapped.
"This job is pretty sink-or-swim, lass. We're not big on help." Instead of irritating me, his comment raised my curiosity as he pushed me out of the grate.
"Then why are you here?"
He didn't reply to my question, instead speaking in alarm. "Lass, go!" He shoved me into the frigid water, and for a moment, I just thanked the gods that my Nordic blood would keep me alive.
"Bryn-"
"Swim!"
"But the boa-"
"I said go!" Trusting another person wasn't something I was really used to, but the alarm in his voice made me fairly sure he wasn't shoving me into Lake Honrich for fun, along with the fact that a splash beside me let me know he'd joined me in the water.
A loud crash and shouted obscenities let me know that the mercenaries were continuing to follow us, the grate crashing open.
"Again?!"
"Same thief, I'll bet!"
"Get your bow, Vitani!" I didn't look back, but arrows began slinging into the water, nearly hitting us as we went. I assumed the shooter was a Khajiit, able to see Bryn and I swimming as easily in the dark as she could in the day. I recalled Delvin's muttering from a fortnight ago.
"I think it's a curse," he'd told me. "The others think I'm insane." I'd hardly believed him. What person would? I didn't know if I did now, but it was easier to blame a curse than failure to prepare.
Now that I'd alerted the guard, the only choice was the main entrance, but for now, I would have to focus on a plan to survive. The Khajiit had called out our position, meaning the other mercenaries could also spot us with torchlight.
An arrow whizzed by my head, followed by three others that nearly struck Brynjolf. My chest tightened as I realized he was in danger, and a moment of inspiration struck me. You wanna see my blood in the water? Grasping Bryn's forearm, I mouthed trust me and yanked him underwater along with me. I swiftly slipped a ring onto his finger, something I'd 'acquired' from the Silver-Blood family in Markarth during a job. His face turned blue as he started breathing in the water, my own lungs filtering the nasty-tasting lakewater as well. I flashed the silver amulet around my neck and pulled a red bottle of poison from my pocket. I popped the cork, ensuring I stayed clear of the dangerous cloud.
From above, it would look like they'd killed the trespassers. Bryn and I waited in the depths, hoping no more bolts would come our way. It felt odd to not breathe in air, and I disliked it immensely. My already freezing body became so much colder. It was a discomfort I'd grown resentful of.
Carefully, I led Bryn to the mainland, still remaining underwater just in case anyone was looking out on the water. Upon reaching the shore, I hurled myself up from the depths with an unintentional gasp before slapping my hands over my mouth. I listened intently for at least a minute before deciding that my noise had alerted no one.
Brynjolf pulled himself up beside me, his breathing deeper than normal. His eyes were closed, and I had the odd temptation to push his soaking wet hair from his face. What in Oblivion?! I wondered where the urge came from, instead waiting for the Nord thief to speak.
It took a few moments, but Brynjolf's sharply accented voice, at last, broke the silence. "Lass..." His head turned, green eyes gleaming. "I can't decide whether to kill you or kiss you."
"What?!"
He hoisted himself up and wiped at his face, shivering violently. "We almost died back there because you didn't watch your footing. We're also alive because of your quick thinking in the lake. And you don't need to look so surprised; it's just an expression."
My heart was pounding so loud I'd swear he might hear it. "Brynjolf, you-" Groaning irritably, I let myself flop back down onto the shore.
"I figured Vex's plan would fail," Bryn said plainly. "You're not Vex, for one. For two, her first plan failed. Why would it work the second time?" At his point, I grumbled under my breath. "What?"
"I said, good point," I answered reluctantly. "So now what?"
Brynjolf stretched out. "We go back to the Flagon, come up with a new plan."
"No!" At my instant refusal, Bryn looked at me quizzically. "No. I'd prefer not to go show off my failure to the Guild. I'm well aware that my reputation isn't exactly shining." Brynjolf shrugged.
"Fair enough, lass. If that's the case, then we need to at least come up with another plan- one that's yours." I rolled my eyes. "Let's head in a bit deeper. There's an old abandoned cottage a way into the forest. We've used it for smuggling goods, but it has a few beds, and it'll at the least be a place to rest until the morning."
"I don't want to rest until the morning!" I snapped, taking to my feet. "I just want to get this damned job done!"
Brynjolf squeezed the water out of his sleeves. "Mmhmm. We'll need a plan, though." I scratched at my chin, contemplating the various approaches I could take. I eyed the full moon spreading its light over the lake, having come out from behind the clouds while we were swimming.
"Brynjolf?"
"Hmm?"
"How good of an actor are you?"
...
"How in Oblivion did you get past my mercenaries?!" Aringoth squeaked, held against the wall by Brynjolf's Dwarven dagger. I knew the Nord well enough to know that the anger in his emerald eyes was real as he glared down at Aringoth.
"That's not what we're here to discuss, Elf," I snapped, wiping a bit of red liquid off my jerkin.
The Altmer's gaze flicked back and forth between me and Brynjolf's blade. "Worthless mercenaries. I didn't think Maven or Mercer would allow me to get away with this, but I had little choice."
"Give us the key to your safe," I demanded, "or I'll do to you what I did to your pathetic little guards."
Aringoth fought with himself for a few seconds before groaning and throwing a metal key on the floor. "Fine! Just take it! Once the new owner finds out I gave in, I'm as good as dead anyway."
"New owner...?" Brynjolf's dagger lowered for a split second, just long enough for Aringoth to shove his hand away and run. "Let him go," I ordered Brynjolf, walking over and grabbing the key. "We have the key. I'm sure we can find whatever we need to in that safe."
"Lass?"
"What?" I was well aware of the nature of his question and refused to look at him when he asked it, instead turning around and striding toward the exit.
"Don't worry about what you did out there. I'm not worried about it."
"Well, duh."
"The important thing is that we're almost done with the job, lass. You've got the key, we burned three hives, all that's left is to clear out that safe and return. You'll be in the Guild for sure." I refused to answer as I entered the basement, the iron key cold in my fingers. "And I'm not going to tell anyone, all right? Not even Mercer."
I took a deep breath as I approached the safe. "You have to promise me, Bryn. Promise me you won't say a word."
"Lass, all we care about is the gold. We usually don't care how it gets done. But if it makes you feel better, then sure. I promise I won't tell a single soul." I could only hope he would keep his promise. After all, I didn't want my being a werewolf to become public knowledge.
